


Ground Rules (for Love and War)

by Anika_Ann



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Awkward Flirting, Board Games, Bucky Barnes - The Third Wheel, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Locked In, Matchmaker Sam Wilson, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Power Outage, Prank Wars, Reader-Insert, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Steve Rogers Feels, Unresolved Sexual Tension, request fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21548578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anika_Ann/pseuds/Anika_Ann
Summary: Steve Rogers always has been a bit of a mystery – always polite, with a little bit of foot-in-mouth syndrome, unbelievingly kind and definitely good-looking – but a mystery anyway. He treated you differently from his friends. Why?You would never expect the ongoing prank war between Bucky and Sam to shed light on the matter.Of course, Tony Stark is also to blame. Whenever he isn’t? You are his assistant – you would know.Based on a request from Call_Me_Mrs_Rogers.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers & Reader, Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 19
Kudos: 192





	1. Of war and peace

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on a request from **Call_Me_Mrs_Rogers:**  
>  _Basically, the reader is Tony's assistant and she's in and around the tower 24/7. Steve really likes her and in the rare times that she's able to get away from her work, she really likes him. They're always flirting with each other in the slightly awkward old-man way Steve has but they never actually get together. Bucky and Sam decide to get creative and start a prank war. The only problem is that they cause a power-cut and because of Tony's high-tech stuff, Y/N, Steve and Bucky are trapped in a room together with a bit of food, a board game (monopoly?) and some candles. Maybe Y/N just finished training and was in her small, tight outfits and Steve couldn't keep his eyes off her. Could the whole thing be full of sexual innuendos but NO SMUT PLEASE! Anyway, Bucky does something (maybe he sticks his foot out and Y/N trips over it into Steve's arms? Idk, I'm not good at this...) and they end up kissing or whatever?_
> 
> Sorry for not completely following the script requested, I focused more on what my keyboard dictated O:-) I did say I was terrible with given scenarios. Hopefully you’ll enjoy at least a bit anyway. I can’t see myself filling any other request in my life, but I did have fun with this ;)
> 
> Enjoy, everyone :))

Sam Wilson was a brave man, you thought.

Undoubtedly handsome, considerably capable, loyal to a fault, but first of all, he was an _incredibly brave man._

That was the only logical explanation of him declaring a prank war to James Buchannan Barnes; and it started by the Falcon himself reminding everyone who followed his Twitter that Bucky’s middle name was indeed Buchannan and he loved to be called that.

The truth was that calling Bucky _that_ name was bordering with dangerous. Pulling out a stunt like Sam did, now that was like singing up his own death sentence.

“Wilsoooon!” Bucky howled through the corridors and you jumped in your seat before smirking into your second cup of coffee that day.

You wondered what Sam had done this time. Ever since the first Twitter event, both Sam and Bucky were stepping up their game.

Social media pranks. Sugar-salt switching. Soaped door handles. Hair dye in shampoo. Itching powder. Glue on a mug. You name it.

They were like infants. _Worse even._ As if the tower needed more men children in it. As if Tony wasn’t enough.

Now, Tony Stark was a brilliant man; distracted, sarcastic, maniacal scientist and hero, whom you were honoured to call your boss. Except Pepper Potts was the one in charge, pulling the strings and hiring you after she had become the CEO of Stark Industries, because she could no longer be his assistant.

Because Tony Stark was a genius of a man-child who needed constant supervision. He needed a girl Friday and F.R.I.D.A.Y. sometimes wasn’t enough. Enter you. A glorious secretary with an engineering degree and enough patience to deal with him. Hand-picked by Virginia Potts herself, sometimes being chosen to go with meeting with her to represent Tony’s intentions rather than him, since you were less likely to piss people off, being able to keep cockiness in check.

But damn, weren’t you proud.

Your train of thought was cut short as the former Winter Soldier strode into the communal kitchen with a stormy look on his face and sneezed on its way; four times. Loudly.

Your face twisted in sympathy.

“Haven’t seen him,” you answered before Bucky could collect himself enough to ask.

Another wall-shaking sneeze was his response.

Now that one was just cruel; as far as you knew, supersoldiers couldn’t get sick. So it was just the sneezing itself, whatever it was caused by. Still, you guessed it must have been horrible to go through that after so many years of blissful germ-freedom. Honestly, if you sneezed like after seven decades, you’d lose your shit. Why did it feel like your lungs were about to leave your body through your nose? Scary shit, alright.

Bucky growled and stalked away. Not before he nodded in thanks.

He left the room with another sneeze.

“Bless you,” you muttered under your breath and eyed your tablet.

Tony was asleep as he had stayed awake until two a.m. working on the newest upgrade for the security of the Tower, so technically, you had time to enjoy your coffee in relative peace.

Naturally, peace was a short supply in the Tower, the home to the Avengers.

When Pepper had first offered you to simply move in since you spent the most time there, you had been reluctant. It had only been a week in and while you met some of the team-members, finding out they were far less intimidating than they presented themselves to the press, it sounded… overwhelming to stay there 24/7. However, you had been quickly persuaded after you nearly passed out, because your sleep schedule was a mess, consisting of either passing out on the couch in the Tower or making it home only to fall asleep before your head hit the pillow and being woken up by an urgent call from the Ironman himself two hours later.

Living in the Tower had its downsides and its upsides.

Downside was that it rarely got quiet and it was _the_ perfect target for any supervillain as it had all of the Earth’s mightiest heroes in one place. Constant supervision from an artificial intelligence was as reassuring as concerning.

As for the upsides… you hadn’t expected to actually… _befriend_ the Avengers. You certainly wouldn’t guess that once Natasha Romanoff warmed up to you, she was a great friend, a female element alongside Pepper that the Tower and the team sorely needed. The times you bonded over the aforementioned men-children were one of the best in your life.

Clint was a lot of fun, though you had soon adopted the habit of making a pot of coffee just for him, since you were usually the one to get up from bed before him and talking to him pre-coffee was the risk equivalent of touching Sam’s snacks.

Bruce… kept for himself a lot. But when he came out of his shell, either liberated by alcohol or when discussing science with Tony, he would radiate an aura anyone would be happy to bask in.

Sam was the ray of sunshine, gentle with a lot of fun stacked behind the chocolate eyes of his, but once he got into the same room and Bucky… _oh boy._

The silently charming grumpy supersoldier added to the team in a way you wouldn’t see coming – perfectly. Except when he and Sam were _always_ in each other’s hair. Always bickering. Sometimes resulting in a war. Occasionally funny; other times utterly annoying – right now, you felt like it was something in between.

“Good morning,” sounded pleasantly from the door, where the last member of the peculiar household stood, seemingly hesitant.

Oh. Steve Rogers. That was right. Your biggest guilty pleasure. That man was a pure eye-candy, a body perfected by the serum only to protect the great man hiding in it. You didn’t have many opportunities to truly know him; but whenever you saw him, he had an air around him, greatness and kindness, yet somehow fogged by modesty.

At times, he appeared sheepish almost, but always polite. To you anyway. His friends were a different story; it saddened you occasionally, that he didn’t consider you a friend, not really giving you a chance, treating you differently. You suspected it was because you weren’t a fighter; while assisting Tony nearly 24/7, it was obvious the billionaire tried his best to keep you away from the danger zone as much as possible.

The arms-long distance Steve Rogers kept you at was causing you a heart-ache at times, yet you had a feeling he didn’t have any particular dislike for you; only that he treated you differently. Always polite. Always a pleasant interaction.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, his usual running outfit and tousled hair giving away he was coming back from his everyday morning routine of what was probably like thirty miles or something.

“Good morning, Steve. Had a nice run?”

Looking himself up, slightly guiltily, he scratched the back of his neck. It occurred to you that he was embarrassed at not being the most cleaned-up version of himself in front of you – a woman –, which you found adorable. His forties-man was showing.

“Yeah. _Yes_. Thank you. Did you… sleep well?” he queried, shifting by the door.

“Yes, actually… are you going to stand there all day?” you teased him lightly and the corners of his lips twitched as his gaze fell to the floor, his shoulder finally bouncing off the door-frame.

“I just didn’t want to disturb your moment of peace…”

Your chest felt warmer at such admission. What a sweet thought.

“That is very kind of you,” you praised him as he gestured to the coffee pot, checking with you it was for everyone’s use. You nodded and chuckled at the tinniest flaw in his thoughtfulness. “Except you were beaten about a minute and half by a much grumpier and louder supersoldier.”

Steve groaned and leaned onto the counter. “Let me guess: Sam proceeded with another prank.”

You made a finger gun at him, grinning. “Exactly. I don’t know _how_ he did it, but I don’t think I ever heard a person sneeze that loud. And that _often._ Poor Bucky.”

“Bucky brought this upon himself. He deserves it,” Steve grumbled, sipping the coffee, his eyelids sliding shut blissfully. You were pretty sure that something resembling a moan resonated in his chest, which… didn’t do a thing to you. Didn’t bring thoughts that were not about caffeinated beverages, but something slightly dirtier. Nope. Nothing. Like… at all.

You stood up from you stool and gathered your stuff, ignoring the way your heart suddenly sped up.

“Well, I just hope we can all keep sane before this particular battle of their war is over,” you hummed, every word honest and hopeful. “These two might bring the Tower down. As if Tony wasn’t enough…”

“Very true. I’ll try and keep an eye on them… _try,”_ he emphasized when your nose scrunched with a bit of doubt and you made a so-so motion with your free hand.

“Bold move. I hope you don’t get caught in the middle. Though I’m sure you could pull the blue-hair look unlike Bucky…”

**_Why_ ** _did I just say that?_

Smiling softly into his cup despite his eyes going wide in horror, he took a deep breath and looked you straight in the eye. The brightness of his irises had your breath caught in your chest.

“So am I. You… uhm, you look beautiful today, by the way,” he complimented you sweetly, his gaze swiftly glancing over your outfit and casual hairstyle. And for a good reason; having to assist Pepper on a meeting today, you had been chosen to wear a pink ladies suit and a white shirt. You had expected to look like a ridiculous copy of cotton candy – you had _not_ anticipated to… actually look presentable. _Feminine_ even. _You._

Your cheeks matched the colours of your jacket at the praise; Steve’s shoulders straightened.

“I meant… not that you usually don’t. I was… uhm, I like the… the look on you. The one you have today,” he stumbled over his words and suddenly your whole body felt warm, pleasantly and yet embarrassingly.

“Thank… thank you. Have a nice day, Steve,” you nearly _squeaked,_ threw a quick smile over your shoulder and rushed from the kitchen.

Oh yeah.

Steve… he would often utter a compliment, like a proper gentleman he was, treating women right. Except you never heard him say such thing to Natasha, who was far easier on the eyes. Or to Pepper. He would open the door for you, reached the top shelves when you needed it, always offering a helping hand, shy and gentle smiles, so… diverse to how he was when with the Avengers.

No, Steve Rogers didn’t treat you like his friend.

And god knew that the day you figured out if that was a good thing or a bad thing, would be the day of solving the biggest enigma of the new millennium.

Unknown to you, Steve melted into the counter, putting down his cup of coffee and groaned at his utter inability to flirt.

“I swear, man, before you manage to give her a _normal_ compliment without putting your foot in your mouth, someone else will snatch her,” Sam commented, having just sneaked into the kitchen to grab a three protein bars, cautiously scanning his surroundings.

Steve shot him a glare. “Thank you, Sam, you’re being very helpful. Has Bucky found you yet?”

“Shh! Don’t say his name! Do that two more times and he will app-“

“Wilson! You- _ACHOO_ \- fhakhin’ bird- _ACHOOO_ -brain!” Bucky’s voice thundered through the whole floor and Steve smirked with satisfaction.

Sam’s body turned to stone, his eyes horrified and yet endlessly amused.

“Sorry, Cap, gotta go! But for God’s sake, just ask her out before we all go insane here…”

“Says the guy who cursed a supersoldier with sniffles!” Steve called after the disappearing figure exasperatedly, only to hear Sam’s laughter in the distance.

-.-.-

“Silly circuit! What’s wrong with you? Do you have no decency? Just _work…”_ you mumbled under your breath, eyes glued to the interface from way too short distance, but you didn’t care for your health at this point. You just wanted to _fix_ this.

“Is it talking back?” hesitant and yet teasing voice asked, making you nearly jump out of your skin. Your head snapped up in surprise.

“Steve. Hey,” you welcomed him briefly, shocked at the vision of the supersoldier in the workshop. “What brings you to our dungeon?”

“Coffee break,” he wiggled two coffee cups in his hands pointedly and beckoned towards the clock that… read ten in the evening. _Oh._ You didn’t realize you had been down here for so long. “Something tells me you didn’t have one in a while. Am I… overstepping?”

Your cheeks flushed similarly to his as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reluctant to cross the distance between you.

Coffee honestly sounded heavenly now. _And_ with delivery and perhaps some company? Not bad, not bad at all…

“Oh. No! No, that’s just… I’m surprised,” you admitted. “I mean, you’re _always_ nice to me, of course, but… eh, sorry, my people skills are lacking at this time of day. Remind me how to tell- gosh, I can’t even _word,_ I mean _speak--_ you really do have a point about that coffee break.”

You chuckled, palm over your forehead, fighting the urge to run it down your face in embarrassment at you babbling.

Steve, ever the gentleman, tried to hush his laughter at least partly, the sound coming out subtle and cute. He held out one of the cups for you and you instantly sipped at it reverently with your eyelids fluttering close, barely registering his soft: “Well, here you go.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

“You’re welcome. What are you working on?”

Surprised once more by his query, you took another vehement sip of coffee before placing the cup in safe distance and answering.

“Eh, just some glitch in Natasha’s Bites. I think she fried it, using the electromotive units on too many people during the last mission and now the interface is misbehaving and we would rather avoid her accidently electrocuting people, god forbid, herself.”

“…that we would,” Steve agreed, blinking at you, seemingly a bit dumbstruck, but a twinkle of mischief reflected in his irises. “Looks like the coffee is kicking in pretty quick. You have no problem with _wording_ now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle self-depreciatingly. He wasn’t _wrong._ What threw you off balance was that he was… having a conversation with you, a playful one, so atypical of him – at least as far as it was concerning you – and… it felt truly nice. It did things to your stomach, a pleasant fluttery sensation and you quickly downed the rest of your cup, wondering if it was the shot of caffeine. You were about 97% sure that it wasn’t the cause.

“Har, har, Captain Rogers. I’ll have you know that it’s only my _human_ skills that gets progressively pathetic with my caffeine levels running low, not my ability to say big words. Anyway, what’s got into you tonight? There’s something different about you… not that I’m complaining!”

Once more, his reaction took you aback. He flashed you a quick smile before lowering his gaze, holding up both of his hands in gesture of surrender. “Guilty as charged. Sam might have found me making coffee for two and decided to give me a pep talk. He told me, and I quote, to suck it up and just spit it out. … And then made me take a sip from Thor’s flask.”

Your heart started beating its way out of your chest, a mixture of panic and excitement at his admission.

“Sounds like he’s a good friend then. _Is_ there something on your mind? That you need to… spit out?”

“Yeah,” he confessed, peeking at your from under his rich eyelashes, shy but determined gaze settling on you as he leant onto the counter behind him. “I feel like… things I want to say tend to come out wrong. I… I’d like to know you better. If that would be alright with you.”

You felt endlessly grateful that moment, that the words ‘ _my jaw went slack’_ were only a figure of speech, because otherwise you would have looked very comical and very much _stupid._ Still, your lips parted, the flutter in your stomach growing in intensity.

“…oh,” you breathed out intelligently, only to realize he had actually asked a question. Kinda. And was waiting for you to answer. “Uhm… yes. Yes, I’d love to do the same. I… I admit I thought that maybe you just weren’t interested in further interaction, because I’m not on the team-“

“No! That’s not it at all, I swear,” he rushed to reassure you, sending a tiny pleased smile at your approval. “It’s just… like I said. I’m always tripping over myself around you, putting my foot in my mouth and- and things I want to say sound less awkward in my head.”

 _Tripping over himself around me?_ That sounded… _nope, that couldn’t be it._ Right? Except your heart was now hammering against your ribcage in excitement at the possibility, turning more real every second he was looking at you and _dammit,_ _do not_ give into the silly hope that Steve Rogers might actually _like_ like you.

“Steve, you’re literally the nicest guy I’ve ever met. I like to think about you as sweet, not awkward.” Now _wow_ , that was way too much, dummy. Except he smiled shyly, his eyes lightening up at the compliment and your fingertips tingled at the sweet display of delight. He relaxed further, settling more comfortably against the counter. “Now, what do you want to know?”

“Anything,” he shrugged, the corners of his lips still up in invitation, an encouragement to share with him anything you were willing.

“Well, you clearly already know how I take my coffee…”

Hint of darker pink coloured his cheeks, much to your glee.

“How did you end up working for Tony?”

“First of all, we all know I’m working for _Pepper…”_

He laughed at that, but listened patiently after, watching you work as you told him about your mum always being away on business trips and your father taking you to his workshop to keep your child’s mind occupied, teaching you stuff that was way too complicated for a little girl, but fascinating at the same time, showing you direction when you turned the age of making the big career decisions.

“Applying for this insane position wasn’t a spur of the moment. Pepper sent out e-mails to candidates she picked – I didn’t even know about the position opening, she simply used some of Tony’s searching tools and wrote people of whom she thought might handle the job. It was a little scary, to be honest. First, I thought there was no way for me to sign up for that; it would mean basically no personal life and I never wanted to be like my mom, never home…. But then it occurred to me how proud she would be of me, much like dad is and… I thought that it doesn’t have to be forever, you know. I can work here now and switch to something else when I decide to be a mom. Of course, I can see now, unlike when I was a kid and teenager, that she _tried,_ but… I realized lots of that stuff only after she died and it’s just… I’m sorry she wasn’t there and that I didn’t try harder to appreciate her.”

You couldn’t fathom when you started pouring your heart to him or when your eyes started burning, but suddenly his hand was there, gently squeezing yours, his wide shoulders as if shielding you from the rest of the world simply by standing by your side and your eyes closed on their own account, your body strangely comfortable in Steve’s huge presence.

“I’m sure she knew,” he whispered warmly.

You smiled at him through the tears you had failed to keep at bay. “Sorry. Now whose mouth is loose. I bet you didn’t expect me oversharing when you said you wanted to know me better.”

“No, I didn’t,” he confirmed, observing your face with a mixture of laughter at your joke and compassion at your outburst. “I appreciate that you’re willing to share something so big with me. Thank you.”

“It’s that eyes of yours. They made me spill my guts.”

He didn’t point out that your focus was on the device on the table and not his eyes, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket instead. He gave it to you, never letting go of your other hand.

“Oh _wow,”_ you only commented, no more words needed. Who the hell still carried-

Steve groaned silently. “Please don’t make any old man jokes.”

“I was about to compliment your _chivalry.”_

“Sure you were,” he grumbled, but his mouth was curled up in a grin, so you assumed he wasn’t too offended by your reaction.

Staring at the dazzling display of perfect teeth, you missed another person coming in; until their shocked voice snapped you from your trance.

“Whoa, what’s happening?” Bucky blurted out, bewildered at the scene in front of him.

You jumped away from Steve as if you got burned, your hand slipping from his. To be fair, so did he.

When had you got to standing in such intimate proximity anyway? Christ, something must have got into the air vents. You’d blame the Barnes-Wilson war for that… not that you complained. Having Steve standing so close, offering comfort without a single word of complaint after listening to you pouring your heart to him… you weren’t entirely joking when saying you were about to commend his chivalry.

Steve cleared his throat, his voice hoarse as if he had been the one crying. “Bucky? What can I do for you?”

Bucky frowned first at his best friend and then at you, his gaze flickering between the two of you before settling on you, worried wrinkle appearing on his forehead.

“You alright, dollface? Do I need to punch Captain Foot-in-the-Mouth in his face?” he beckoned his chin towards Steve and you instantly shook your head, still too caught off guard to find your voice.

“Buck, please…”

“It’s a relevant question, Steve. And I’d do it if she asked.”

A surprised chuckle escaped your lips and you offered Bucky a grateful smile, only to grin up at Steve before wiping the rest of your tears.

“You seem to have very supportive friends, Steve,” you remarked.

“You have no idea. What did you need?”

“Nothing from you, punk,” Bucky smirked and shifted his attention fully to you. “FRIDAY told me you needed me in here? Something about an upgrade for my arm? Which I don’t need-”

“… which is why I’m not working on such thing,” you said, baffled. _Should_ you be working on Bucky’s arm?

The former Winter Soldier had an utter confusion written all over his face.

“Huh? Then why-?”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

The workshop was suddenly swallowed by darkness, stunning him into silence.


	2. Of friendship and love

Your heart nearly gave out at the fright and instantly started to hammer wildly in your ribcage.

You couldn’t see in the sudden pitch-dark room, but you could sense two large frames of supersoldiers stepping into your space protectively, their backs to you, facing the potential threat.

The heat of their bodies reassured you as your breathing sounded way too loud, your heartbeat seemingly bouncing off of the walls, filling the large space. Needing to feel _something_ , your shaky hand reached out, colliding with Steve’s wrist; at least you assumed it was Steve’s. He swiftly turned his hand, squeezing yours before letting go and focusing on the danger lurking in the dark.

You held your breath in anticipation, moments stretching. Why was _nothing_ happening?

Clearly, Bucky had been brought here under false pretences and there was a thick chance that whoever had got him here – _F.R.I.D.A.Y.?! –_ counted on you being here as well. Did they take Steve into account or was he the one variable that could mean the difference between death and life?

The icy silence was broken by a series of strangely familiar beeps.

You jumped good two feet above the floor at the sudden interruption, you pulse skyrocketing.

It was coming from your left, where Bucky stood, the unzipped pocket of his hoodie giving out a faint light.

He cautiously pulled the phone out, his face illuminated by the greyish glow. He eyed it absently, trying to stay on alert for an attack. Then his shoulders slumped, his eyes closing shut.

What? WHAT?! What was happening? Was it a death threat? To him? To someone else? To the whole world?

As the silence stretched once more, only interrupted by Bucky’s low growl, your mind was racing, coming out with different catastrophic scenarios. And suddenly something clicked.

“Were those… sounds from the Angry Birds game?” you broke the deadly quiet and Bucky’s growl was more distinct this time.

 _“Yes,”_ Bucky confirmed darkly and you could feel Steve slowly relax by your side, the tension radiating from him easing as if was brought up to speed with what was going on. He was still standing dangerously close to you, but you weren’t about to complain. Definitely not until _you_ knew what was going on. “I’m going to murder him. Slowly. And painfully.”

He sounded truly pissed off. But also annoyed. You forced yourself to take a deep breath.

“Who’s him and what is he saying?” you asked, voice thin. Despite some of the fear leaving your body, your knees felt like buckling. Good thing Steve was so close that he would be able to catch you. Or perhaps his presence was one of the reasons why you felt weak in your knees?

“Homing pigeon, who else? _Wilson.”_

Oh. _Oh._

Wait, what?

 _“Shitted you pants, didn’t you?”_ Bucky read out loud and you could _hear_ him grinding his teeth. Illuminated by the phone screen, he looked like he was about to live up to his reputation as the Winter Soldier. _“You didn’t get a heart-attack though, did you? Because that would be considerably less fun. Enjoy your lockdown, Barnes.”_

“Oh thank god,” you breathed out, finally endlessly relieved.

“I’m gonna hold him while you punch him, Buck. And then I’m gonna punch _you_. This has got too far. You wanna play cat and mouse, please, by all means, but do _not_ pull us into it,” Steve said seriously, his voice carrying a hint of disappointment and irritation at his friends’ behaviour.

Your hand acted on its own account, needing to comfort him all of sudden. He covered the back of your hand when it blindly found its forearm. It caused the corners of your lips to lift.

“So much for not getting caught in the middle,” you hummed, recalling your words to him from two days prior and you had a feeling he smiled at that.

Bucky sighed, exasperated. “Fuck lockdown. We can figure something out, right?”

At that, your mood fell instantly. It was your turn to sigh, because… you weren’t so certain about that. Freeing your hand, you crossed your arms on your chest.

“Well, the power is down,” you pointed out the obvious. “The thing is, I’m ninety percent sure Tony didn’t synchronize the new protocols with the emergency power unit yet.”

“English?” Bucky hissed.

You were pretty confident that he understood, but didn’t want to believe it. You rolled your eyes and explained.

“The power won’t kick in on its own, because the new security update isn’t quite… complete. It has to be done manually. And Tony didn’t share how.”

“So we just have to call Tony?” Steve asked, relieved.

“Yeah… about that. I might have threatened to all of his Ironman suits if he left his phone on during the date with Pepper he’s currently on…”

 _“Oh,”_ Steve let out, clearly surprised, but at the same time, slightly pleased. _Good._ He cared for more than just his friends’ safety – he also cared about their happiness. Not that it was any surprise to you. “Where’s the date?”

You chewed on your lower lip, squeezing your eyes shut as you prepared for the storm which was doubtlessly about to follow your revelation.

“…Richmond.”

“WHAT?!” sounded stereo from both sides of your face and you whined, guilt biting at your stomach. But how were you supposed to know this was gonna happen?!

You would bet Samuel fucking Wilson planned it exactly because _he knew_ about the date. And about its location.

“There’s a really nice restaurant with great atmosphere, okay?!” you instantly defended yourself. “It had wonderful lobster and Tony actually paid attention to what Pepper said for once, so he knew she would love it there!”

Steve sighed, but assured you that it was alright, recognizing your contribution.

“So we’ll just punch our way out.”

“…yeah, about that,” you shot down Bucky’s proposition before he could get too excited about it.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! What now?”

“Tony might have lined the walls and doors with vibranium after Ultron, T’Challa provided it to him. He thought it would be safer…?”

 _“Why_ would he do that?”

“Because he’s a paranoid bastard?” you offered, earning an affirmative hum from Steve.

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

“So, let me get this straight. He lines the walls with rare metal, but he still trusts his tech, which already turned against him before,” Bucky stated in disbelief.

“Uhhmmm, yeah, sounds about right.”

You could feel a gush of wind that probably signalled Bucky throwing his arms up in exasperation.

“So… we’re trapped,” Steve summed up and you reluctantly agreed.

“Basically.”

“In the dark,” Bucky added. “Well, for you anyway.”

“I mean, not _complete_ dark, my phone’s somewhere on the table and has some battery– wait, are you telling me you can actually see in this… _darkest_ dark?” you demanded incredulously.

“Yeah, a bit,” Bucky confirmed absently as he reached for his phone again to light it up. “Mine has like 5 percent.”

“I don’t have my phone with me,” Steve confessed.

“Seriously, Steve?”

“I’m still in the tower! No one outside the tower calls me!” Steve shot back at Bucky defensively.

_Legendary duo arguing! Alert! Cannot be happening!_

“Alright, boys. Calm down,” you asked of them gently. “We’ll figure something out. Help me find my phone…” Bucky obediently did, even though you were sure he was frowning. You lit it up contentedly. “Sweet. I have about ten percent.” You turned on the flashlight attached to the camera and squinted to see better as you headed to one of the cupboards. “There are some flashlights right-“ Your face twisted in confusion when you found the cupboard empty. Well. “-or not. Let’s scan this place…”

As it turned out, the workshop was a place of wonders. Rest assured, you knew about a lot of strange things hidden through the cabinets, but some treasures still surprised you.

Mostly, it was Steve and Bucky, who were bewildered at their findings.

“What is _Operation_ doing here?” Steve questioned, pulling out the game box for you to see – well, the outline of it anyway – as if he wanted you to confirm that it was indeed there and he wasn’t hallucinating.

“Don’t even ask,” you rolled your eyes.

Have you mentioned Tony needed constant supervision _and_ that he was a man-child? Yeah? Never mind, you could say that over and over again and it wouldn’t get less truthful.

“We could play,” Bucky offered casually, clearly getting bored by the recon mission.

“I’m not playing Operation with you. _I_ can barely see.”

“Fine, fine…” Bucky grumbled and Steve put the box back, moving to other mysterious cabinets.

“Oh. Candles. _And_ matches. That might be helpful. And a bag of chips.”

“Nicely done, Captain,” you praised him, turning to him to flash him a grin he could probably barely see. It dawned to you too late how flirtatious it might have sounded, how strangely his rank rolled of your tongue, so you quickly spoke up again. “Hand it over.”

“Keep looking. One bag of chips isn’t enough…” Bucky stated, but Steve handed you the to-be light sources so you could place them to your liking.

His fingers brushed your hands tenderly as he passed you the items and you weren’t certain whether it was an accident or not. Judging by the faint outline of his shy smile, you thought it might not. It made your cheeks burn and your heart swell.

“Twister?” Bucky proposed this time, breaking the moment you shared with Steve and you rolled your eyes.

“Eh, Tony sometimes… plays with Dum-E,” you explained, hoping he would get the picture. “Usually when he’s drunk. I’m not-“ _-playing with you._

“Got it. Monopoly then?”

You whined. It wasn’t exactly your favourite game and you knew you would lose in the matter of minutes, but if you were being honest… you were about to run out of things to do here and your phone was about to die, so you might as well play the game Tony Stark _loved._

“Well. Let me just light up the candles, okay? It’s gonna be a short game. You two have superbrains. But I _might_ survive few rounds if I really try…” you murmured and proceeded with illuminating the space.

You in fact _did_ last few rounds. You even managed to step up and buy some of the tiny red houses. And you… you might even have been having _fun_.

Until you got the worst luck _ever,_ stepping on the most fearful square owned by no other than Steve Rogers and you had to start counting all of your money… only to find out that it, if fact, wasn’t enough. Not after you had already payed him once that round _and_ to Bucky.

“Ahh, _dammit.”_

“You can always just… sell something,” Bucky noted and you shot him a glare. That move always signalled the beginning of an end.

You were frowning at the board, chewing on your lower lip while you considered your options. Not that there were many of them. Your poor boat-shaped figure was about to sink.

“Or you could pay me later,” Steve’s voice broke your mussing and your head snapped to him. “I’ll give you five tosses – someone might step on something of yours by then.”

You examined his inviting expression, his sharp features softened by the candlelight. For a moment, your brain switched off. For some reason, you hadn’t truly looked at him since the game started, your gaze rather on the board and dice, but now, when you raised your gaze, you were amazed by the ethereal aura around him, by the startling beauty. His already warm eyes reflected the tiny flames, the shadows accenting the curve of his lips, defined cheekbones, strong jaw.

One of his eyebrows rose in slow motion, only for you to realize with shock that you had been staring at him for way too long. You hoped he believed you only got lost in thought; which you did, but about _him,_ not about the game.

“I… don’t think that’s possible according to the rules,” you whispered, voice hoarser than expected. You cleared your throat, your heart racing at both being caught and captivated by the vision of Steve in the sweet light.

“Sometimes it’s alright to bend the rules a bit for a good cause. Where the fun would be if I condemned you to bankrupting in about two tosses?” he shrugged, apparently oblivious to your inner turmoil and you released the breath you were holding.

 _“One_ toss, knowing my luck… are you sure?”

“Positive,” he assured you with a small smile and you could _melt_ at spot. And it had nothing to do with that stupid capitalistic board game.

“Thank you. I guess I’ll just have to pay you with interest too when I finally do.”

You honestly had no intention for it to come out like that… it had just… happened to sound this flirty. His eyes locked on yours, the warm candlelight still casting shadows over his cheeks bones, sharp jaw, plush lips… all of him was calling out for you, luring your heart in, your breath catching in your throat and his gaze flickered to the lower part on your face just for a split second, but it was enough to cause you a little heart attack, a firework exploding in your abdomen. _Christ._

“I guess it’s my turn then,” Bucky cleared his throat meaningfully and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice.

How the hell did you forget he was still here with you?

Also, you were _playing Monopoly_ and when you had said you’d pay with interest, you had originally thought paying with some fake money on top. It was an accident that somehow, your brain had switched to its more primitive form, thinking about very different things and you needed to get it back in check. Right now.

Bucky helped with that significantly; while you were able to pay Steve after one single toss, _without_ interest, because he strictly refused that (you would swear that even in the lack of light, you could see the tips of his ears burning), Sergeant Barnes was not one to be mollified. He mercilessly slayed you and you lost everything in next two rounds, because that was just your luck.

Steve proposed to end the game with that (even when he was surprisingly on his way to win despite your debacle), but it felt unjust.

“I trust you, Steve. You’ll win this. And it’s okay for you to have fun. I’ll just watch how you fight over it like children,” you teased lightly, grinning up at him despite losing.

“Okay. Whenever you get too bored, we’ll stop,” he declared and your expression softened at the gentle gaze boring into your eyes.

You couldn’t remember the last time you kept staring at each other like that – more often than not, either you or him would eventually avert the other’s gaze. There ultimately was something different about tonight. You certainly didn’t find it a bad thing though. If you were being completely honest, you _liked it._ Steve truly was the sweetest guy you had ever met and you weren’t oblivious to his appearance, nor to his alluring personality. It was simply the assumption of having zero chance with him that had been making you hold back. But tonight… it seemed there might be a possibility even.

Was there?

Letting your thoughts wander, you watched with a fond smile on your face as the two friends fell into a merciless fight over fake money and real estate. The two world’s supersoldiers bickering like an old couple, yet resembling children.

It was when the tiredness from the whole day on your feet started settling in. First, it showed in a subtle way; goosebumps rose on your skin, uncomfortable shiver running through your whole body.

It didn’t go unnoticed; eyeing your outfit, only consisting of thin t-shirt and jeans, as you curled up into yourself on the couch, a concerned wrinkle appeared on Steve’s face.

You flashed him a drowsy smile, shaking your head so he wouldn’t worry. Ha, as if that could work! He scanned the room and then strode away, unmistakably finding the blanket you had discovered earlier in one of the cabinets. He gently laid it over your shoulders before returning to the game, stealing a glance on you ever so often.

At least you thought so. Adding warmth to the mix was the perfect recipe for your eyelids growing heavier by the second. Before you knew it, your head lulled, the motion instantly causing you to jolt awake. 

A chuckle escaped to both of your companions; except Steve had enough decency to try and sound subtle. Bucky, not so much.

“It’s almost over,” he grinned and had you had the energy, you would raise your eyebrow to show your skepticism; it was never _almost over_ with Monopoly. Or, more precisely, the ‘almost over’ usually lasted about two hours.

“It can be over right now,” Steve offered kindly and you shook your head stubbornly, the movement causing the world swim.

“Nope. You win,” you attempted to say, your words slurring, your tongue feeling as lead-like as your eyelids.

A shift in Steve’s posture caught your attention as he scooted a little closer to you on the couch and the shock of his skin nearly making contact with yours nearly brought you back to full consciousness.

“Just lean in whenever you need,” he whispered barely audible, as if he was letting you into his darkest secret.

You mumbled something doubtlessly incomprehensible – even to yourself – and allowed your temple to fall on his impressive shoulder. You almost moaned in bliss.

_“Warm…”_

How was he so warm? He only wore a t-shirt, like you.

Why would Tony call him a Capsicle? He was more like a space heater… eh, you’d figure it out… later… later…

You felt your muscles relaxing, melting into the pleasant warmth and soon, you were dead to the world.

Gentle sway brought you back to consciousness, soft dip as fabric slid under your body and you subconsciously curled back towards the warmth that seemed to be disappearing. It still did, but cushions soon replaced it. You were too tired to resist, sinking into the mattress instead.

Faintly recalling the events of the night, you figured Tony must have rescued you from your prison. Mind painfully slow, it dawned to you that Steve, whom you possibly used as your personal pillow slash space heater, carried you to bed.

Sweet. Very, very sweet, always so nice, but never like with the others… perhaps it was about to change? You had passed some kind of a test? Or did you…?

“Steve… will you… treat me… like all… your friends?” your words slurred, quiet and mumbled mostly to your actual pillow, but apparently, he understood.

Or maybe you were just dreaming.

“Would you like that?” his lips must have barely moved, his voice so low you might as well only imagine it.

You felt like you only considered it for a second, but you couldn’t be sure. You just wanted to sleep. Just answer one more question to the chivalrous Steve, who was carefully tucking you in.

“Nah… Too pretty… to be friend.”

He chuckled breathlessly, a huff of air caressing your face.

“Yes, you are, doll. Sleep. I’ll try not to put my foot in my mouth tomorrow morning when you’re really awake and I finally ask you out, okay?”

 _Promise?_ “Uh-uh. So sweet.”

“Goodnight,” he whispered an inch from your head, warmth touching your forehead for only a fraction of second.

“’night.”

The reality was, he _did_ put his foot in his moth the next morning. But only a bit; he still got a yes from you. As if no was ever an option. Vaguely remembering what had been happening after you had fallen asleep in the workshop, you returned his gesture – except his forehead was too high, so your lips brushed his cheek instead; you had to tug on his sleeve to reach at least that spot.

He certainly didn’t seem to mind if the delighted smile he gave you in return was anything to go by.

-.-.-

It wasn’t the only significant encounter of that morning though.

Bucky walked into kitchen only to find Sam casually sipping his coffee, a wide grin on his face.

“What the _hell_ did you think you were doing?” the sergeant hissed, rewarded by raised brows.

“Come on, Barnes. You should be smarter than that. Do you really think Tony keeps candles around? And no flashlights? Dude. It was for romantic atmosphere. Even _you_ could see how hopeless they were. It was all part of my master plan to get these two idiots together,” Sam revealed calmly, clicking his tongue when Bucky shot him a murderous look, leaning closer with a menacing face.

“Do you have _any_ idea what kind of an eye-fuck session I’ve been through? What I had to witness? If it was such a master plan, _why_ did I get stuck in there with them?!”

“As a psychical support to your best pal Steve…?”

Bucky looked like he was considering what kind of a murder would be most painful for the other man. Strangling him would be so… boring. Though no doubt satisfying enough.

Would be though? That bastard had the audacity to shrug as he placed his empty cup on the counter.

“Kidding, I’m his best pal. I figured that it would be fun to have you play the third wheel. We _are_ still at war, Barnes,” he pointed out. “I just thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

Bucky’s fist hit the counter, making the poor cup rattle.

“Soon, I will kill _one_ particular bird and I will need no stone,” Bucky stated with startling serenity. “Run, Wilson. _Run.”_

Sam Wilson was a brave man. But hell, when the former Winter Soldier tells you to run, you run and you’d better be grateful for the head start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated - whether it is a positive one or negative one.
> 
> Thank you for reading :))


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